Close
by spamightwrite
Summary: Roman's in quite the mood... Dean thinks he's pretty terrible at cheering people up, but maybe not quite as bad as he thinks. Ambrollins.


They were silent.

Whether Dean was driving or in the passenger seat, he was usually rambling when he and Roman made their way to the next town. Even if the radio was blaring, even if Roman was half-asleep, even if he had absolutely nothing important to say. If someone was in the car with him, he just felt the need to talk.

But it had been a long tour, for sure. Being on the road for two weeks straight could be difficult for anyone. For the most part they were used to it – they had to be – but it could wear on them. And it was, especially on Roman's part. The ground shifted beneath his feet daily, taking almost everything familiar with it, slipping from his grasp by a hair and disappearing before he could even think to wave goodbye.

So, even though Roman was unmistakably himself in the passenger's seat, all tattoos and beauty and presence, Dean felt incredibly alone as he drove them both across the pitch black of the highway in the dead of night.

Most the time he was all right with being alone. It was hard to get any peace in his profession.

But Roman, despite being just inches away, might as well have been on the other side of the Earth. And Dean couldn't stand being ignored.

Nothing felt like it should.

There wasn't anything he could do for him. Not now. Thus, his grip tight around the steering wheel and his tongue resting clenched between his teeth, Dean focused on the road as much as he could for the next hour, until they reached their next hotel.

Dean checked them in. Dean led the way to the elevator and their assigned room. Dean hauled two duffel bags and a suitcase.

Roman stood and stared at the tiled floor, trudged after Dean, dragged his suitcase behind him as if it were glued to his hand and just along for the ride.

They entered the room, the door groaning shut. Roman took off his jacket and threw it onto the chair in the corner. Without even taking off his shoes, he collapsed backwards onto the bed and heaved a sigh as Dean set down their luggage. Several more moments were spent in silence before Dean let out his own sigh, frustrated and quiet, and leaned back against the TV stand.

"So," Dean piped up. "D'you wanna talk about it, or what?"

Roman barely even lifted his head, his glare just reaching his partner. "Do I look like I wanna talk about it?"

The scruffy one shrugged and glared right back. "You can pretend I ain't here all you want, but you know we're stuck with each other. And I hate leavin' things hanging, you know that."

"Do you actually care?" Roman laid his head back again and looked at the wall. "Or do you just want me to stop bitching so you can pretend nothing bothers you? Keep acting like some badass tough guy... See how long you can keep that up."

"Hey!" Dean found his anger flaring up from his stomach and out through his throat. He ripped off his own jacket and tossed it into the bed, where it landed gently on top of Roman's legs.

Following a rumbling growl, they were staring daggers at each other from across the room.

"Don't you ever even imply that I don't care about you, asshole," snarled Dean. "If I didn't care, I wouldn't've asked. Fuck's sake, I just want you to feel better, you absolute dick."

Roman looked two seconds from charging over and punching Dean in the mouth. But his expression softened seemingly out of nowhere and he broke into an uncontrollable snicker. Dean was about to be offended, but he really was trying to help. So he clamped down on his anger and listened.

"You're incredible. God damn," he chuckled, low, deep, warm, his hands running through his hair. "Maybe try not to call me an asshole if you're trying to help me feel better."

Dean found himself blushing. That didn't happen very often. "Shit," he laughed. "I fuckin' suck at this, huh?"

His hands rose and fell with the futility of the situation. "I'm smilin' now, aren't I?"

Dean shook his head at himself and plodded over to the bed. Roman didn't stir from his prone position, but he did pat the space on the mattress next to him. In mere moments they were entangled with each other, attached at the hips and arms and mouths. As if they shared one continuous breath that they traded back and forth with a rising heat. Bare skin locked against the others' and happy sighs filled the air.

They couldn't pull apart from each other for some minutes. Eventually, Dean huffed a laugh into Roman's lips and muttered, "Ahh, all right... I think I know what you need, big cat."

"Hm?"

"It's been a little while, hasn't it?" Dean snaked his hands underneath Roman's shirt and felt his hot, tense muscles contract under his touch. "We've been busy, fuckin' exhausted... I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Roman brushed a curled lock away from Dean's forehead to get a better look into his sleepy blue eyes.

"We ain't fucked in quite a little while, have we? That what you need?"

Dean watched as it occurred to Roman, as well. And then he nodded as a smirk spread across his face.

"I think that's a 'yes'. So, how d'you want it, Ro? Age before beauty."

Roman snickered and shrugged. "You better give it to me as hard as you can. Or I'll never forgive you."

"That so?"

Dean took Roman roughly by his shoulders and rolled him over onto his stomach. Anticipation began hitting the both of them in powerful waves. It had been a while since they'd last connected like this, and much longer since the desire was quite that intense. Their energy converged in the little space between them, pulsing in the contact between Dean's fingers and Roman's upper arms. He squeezed, taking Roman's flesh firmly and allowing his nails to start digging in.

"This what you want?" he rasped, leaning down to breathe into Roman's ear. "You want me to take you like this?"

"God yes." That moan in between his words – he already sounded like he was falling apart in the best way. He hitched up his waist and scrambled to undo his jeans not a moment after he spoke.

"No, no, let me," Dean insisted. He wrapped his fingers about his boyfriend's wrists and dropped them away. Without any further warning, he clapped his palms against Roman's hips and slid them forward to start on the button and zipper.

Roman leaned his hips backward, allowing Dean a bit more room to get his pants undone. He was on his hands and knees at that point, and he turned back to gaze at Dean with a loud and obvious need in his eyes. Dean tugged Roman's pants down his thighs and his boxers along with them, not even bothering to fully take them off.

Dean wrapped his arms around Roman's chest and pulled him up into a tight hug. While his hands explored Roman's chest and stomach through his t-shirt, Dean pressed his stirring crotch against his bare backside. His teeth found their way through his gorgeous mane of silky black hair and closed around the edge of his ear.

"Oooh," exhaled Roman, reveling in the snag of Dean's teeth on his skin and cartilage. "I love when you bite me..."

"Yeah...?" The question burned against the back of Roman's ear, sending a lovely shiver across his brown skin. Dean bit down a little harder, causing just the right amount of pain to make Roman hiss in his next breath. "That's good, 'cuz I'm gonna do it a bunch more times."

With that, Dean gripped the back of Roman's neck and shoved his face down onto the pillows. His free hand harshly took the bare flesh of his buttock between its claws. He squeezed ever more tightly as Roman squirmed underneath him – not to escape, but just because he couldn't do anything else.

"And you know, I love when you need it this bad." He released his grip on Roman's cheek only to rear back and lay his palm against it. The slap rang out at the same time as the reaction to it, a gasp followed by a moaned chuckle.

Roman managed to turn his head to the side, still clamped under Dean's hand. He was grinning... laughing. The boy just got one hell of a slap to the behind and he was laughing.

"That all you got?"

Dean's tongue emerged obscenely from between his teeth. "Not even fucking close."

He let go of Roman's neck only to grasp each of his wrists and pull them behind his back. Dean stood next to the bed and forced Roman to his feet, as well. His teammate didn't struggle in the slightest, but he dragged his charge with his full strength away from the bed. One hand holding Roman's wrists behind his back and the other once more planted on the back of his neck, Dean thrust him forward and slammed him against the wall.

Roman felt his teeth rattle just a bit as his cheek made impact. His pants had fallen to just halfway down his thighs during the journey, and his freed cock was already throbbing expectantly. Dean let go of his wrists in order to reach forward and take Roman's member rough in his grasp. He stroked the velvet-soft skin, squeezing ever more firmly as he hardened to full strength. And all the while Dean mumbled sweet obscenities and promises into Roman's fragrant hair.

"You fuckin' love this, don't you?" came his rasping growl deep from the very core of him. "Yeah, you're so hard already, you're such a goddamn slut for this. I hope you're ready to get fucking wrecked." The sound of a zipper being pulled down, the rustle of denim, and an anticipatory grunt. "Roman... darling?"

"Yeah?" he was quivering all over, scarcely held together by his own body.

"Don't move."

Dean removed himself and strode away, leaving Roman with his hands and cheek pressed against the wall, his legs spread apart, his dick pulsing hungrily in the empty air. And as much as contact with Dean was arousing him, the space between their touches only amplified his lust tenfold. He shivered against the wall, chewing on his lip, air shuddering in and out from his lungs.

He didn't even hear Dean's approach, only realizing he was there when a cool and slippery finger began teasing at his entrance. His finger slid into Roman, sending an absolute fullness throughout his body. And as he prepared Roman for something much bigger, he reached with his other hand and gently ran a finger across his teammate's soft, parted lips.

Roman let his tongue jab forward to meet Dean's finger, coated it with saliva, sucked at it as it drifted into his mouth.

"God damn," Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you just can't wait for this, can ya?"

He mumbled something, and repeated it as soon as Dean removed his finger from his mouth. "I think I've waited long enough, don't you?"

"You're way more patient than I could ever ask for, Ro." His other finger, until then still engaged with Roman's other end, slid out and left the big man empty.

It wouldn't last long.

The tip of Dean's cock, already slick with lube, pressed insistently at Roman's hole. Roman bent forward further, sliding his hands down the wall and resting his forehead there. At that moment he was gazing down with fogged vision at his own cock, now tipped with a shining bead of precum. And as Dean immersed himself slowly and completely into Roman, he panted out several quick breaths, watching as his dick twitched with every new inch inside him.

Dean soon found himself as close to Roman as he could physically get, despite the layer of clothes between much of their skin. His arms squeezed about his middle, his sex engulfed to its base, his chest sticking Roman's shirt to his back. His head resting comfortably in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Breath steaming into his skin. It wouldn't have killed him to stay like that for quite a while... but Roman had other ideas.

"Cut the foreplay, Ambrose," he rumbled under his breath. It was lucky that Dean had him held so tightly, otherwise he would have already collapsed to the floor. "Go for it. Now."

"Well, well. Can't argue with enthusiasm like that, can I?"

His palms made their way to Roman's waist, where his fingers clinched onto his hips and created a stable grip. He would need it.

Dean drew out, agonizingly slow, his smirk growing wider as Roman inhaled a whine. He gave him no time to recover or prepare himself.

It was clear that Roman didn't want any.

He plunged in and pulled back before Roman could even start to react. The moans were flying a few moments after he began thrusting in and out, skin slapping against skin, Dean's hips and hands working harder than they had in a rather long time. His knuckles were already white holding Roman in place, his entire body feeling flushed and warm.

"Ohhh, fuck, Dean," he groaned into the wall, already beginning to push his hips back in syncopation with Dean's thrusts. "That feels so good... God I needed this so bad, I needed you..."

"Glad to hear it."

Roman's head was suddenly pulled back, a thousand stings spreading across his scalp. Dean had a sizable lock of his hair wrapped tight around his hand, he tugged back as he pushed in below. Held Roman fast there, his back arched, his knees weak, his throat already drying from the volume and intensity of his pleasure.

With one hand entangled in Roman's hair and the other on his hip, Dean slammed into him while grunting happily and laying hard kisses on the back of his neck. The louder Roman whimpered and groaned, the harder and faster he pushed.

"Don't fuckin' stop, Dean, god, just keep going harder, I can't fuckin' stand it, I need it, faster, please, god..."

Dean wrapped his mouth against Roman's neck and bit down. Roman at this point couldn't control his voice, being stimulated at nearly every front, shouting curses and incoherence into the air.

As suddenly as it had been grasped and pulled, his hair was released. And in the same amount of time, he felt a hard spank against his already reddened buttock. He had but a second to delight in the sweet pain of Dean's hand before he found it wrapped mercilessly tight around his cock.

"GOD." He was shouting. He couldn't help it. He didn't care. "Ffffuck! Dean, too much, I can't... agh... Don't stop. Don't stop, please. So good. So fuckin' good."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart."

The hand on Roman's hip began clawing, etching sweet-burning lines into his thigh. That little hitch in his loud breaths gave him away. It wouldn't be too much longer...

"So close, so close," he panted, right on cue. "Harder, now. Now."

Dean squeezed Roman's cock even more tightly, thrust even harder into him, muttered even more praise and worship into his ear. "That's it, Roman, come on, baby, that's a good boy, cum for me, cum in my hand, baby..."

With little more than a gasp and a shudder that coursed through his whole body, Roman exploded into Dean's hand, hot sticky wetness dripping through his fingers and spurting onto the wall. His insides tightened around Dean's cock, pulling his own orgasm out of him just seconds after Roman's. They pumped the apex of their pleasures into each other, and sighed in unison as they twitched out the last vestiges of their connection.

They flopped down to their knees at the same moment, Dean letting his arms fall around Roman's stomach to hold him. A sigh fell out of the room, the heat lifting off ever so slowly. Dean pressed his lips into Roman's cheek and just let his head rest there for the time being.

"Feel better?"

Roman couldn't contain a laugh, which bubbled out of him and sank joyously into Dean's ears.

"Yeah... Yeah."

Dean patted him on the stomach and nuzzled into his jaw. "Anything else I can do for ya?"

"Just... stay close. Close as you can."


End file.
